I'll Stand In the Rain
by Ardnexelia
Summary: Lothiriel is depressed and sad from her brother Erchirion's death. One day, The High Council of Gondor rides into her father Imrahil's palace for a meeting, and Lothiriel meets the first person who doesn't notice her.
1. Chapter 1

I'll Stand In The Rain

I'll stand in the rain and wait for you. I promise. I can't even seem to hold on to the fading sky without you. Why are you gone? Wait, but you're not gone. Because I'll stand in the rain and wait for you.

Lothiriel sat shivering, draped in a silk blanket. The brobdingnagian blanket was spread all around her on the floor, like the train of a wedding dress had been spun around her. Outside the rain lashed at the walls of the palace. A bolt of lightning struck the ground nearby and she cried out.

Soon she heard soft footsteps coming from outside. Siliet's frail frame shook as Ivrinial padded into the room. Without a word she put her arms around the small girl and whispered an old nursery song into her ear.

Slowly her shuddering became shivers, and then slowly dissipated and was gone. She lay on the bed, sleeping, her aunt slowly running her fingers through her long brown hair, brushing it smooth so that it shone.

Her breathing became softer, her eyes fluttered closed, and she slept for the first time in a long, long while. But her dreams were still there, flitting through her thoughts in passing wisps, curling around her hope and extinguishing it.

Lothiriel woke up slowly. The first thing she was aware of was an ever present murmur in her ear. Not a murmur of noise, but a silent murmur. She sat up slowly, glancing around. Same old room, same old bed. She sighed. But no brother there to comfort her when she woke up crying from her nightmares.

No brother to wait for in the rain, to wait for him to return from the war. She closed her eyes, eyelids flickering in thought of the pain. Slowly she rose, dressed in a pale violet dress, and walked to breakfast. Her father Imrahil sat at the long table conferring with two men. Her aunt gave a slight nod in her direction, but her father showed no signs of noticing her.

After a quick breakfast, she went to walk in the gardens. Soon she was joined by her brother, Amrothos. "Soon Eomer, King Aragorn, and the others of the Great Council of Gondor will ride in." Lothiriel said nothing. "You know father wishes you to choose a husband, or he will pick one for you himself."

"I am aware of this, brother, but I am no mood to do so." He sighed a little. "I know you lament Erchirion Lothiriel, but you must end this torpor." Lothiriel sighed. "You know I can't, Amrothos. Please leave me.'' He persisted, staying by her side as she walked. "Lothiriel..."

"I said leave!" She shouted, then realized what she had done. She looked shocked for a moment as he walked away, then turned and ran towards the far end of the gardens.

* * *

Lothiriel retreated to her rooms for the rest of the day, requesting luncheon and supper in her quarters, although she ate little of the food brought to her. Lothiriel lay in the darkness, listening to the pounding of the waves on rock. She wouldn't sleep tonight, or the next, or the next.

Ivrinial knocked at her door. "Go away." Lothiriel buried her head in her pillow. She heard a sigh, and someone slumped against the door. "Dear, they are riding in now from the north. Your father would have you greet them." Lothiriel waited until she left to slip from her bed.

She dressed slowly but not methodically, pulling on a simple black dress. Cotton, made from rough material and with few embellishments save for a simple braided cord at her waist that acted as a belt. She pulled her hair into a loose bun, reminded of how her mother always used to wear it. She moved towards the door, but stopped, turned back, and then left after placing a black veil on her head that covered her face.

Imrahil sighed when he saw her. "Couldn't you cast away your sadness for one night only, Lothiriel?" She shook her head, then set her gaze on the approaching riders. Soon they were galloping through the gates one after another, eldest first, then the younger riders in the back.

Lothiriel glanced at them all. A few looked at her sadly, others rather maliciously. They are fools. They say sadness is hurtful so they throw away their feelings. Only one person did not glance at her in passing, or stare like some of his companions. Intrigued, she reached for her veil, lifting the shroud over her head and away from her face.

Several people took shocked breaths, while others began to gape. Lothiriel supposed she was beautiful. She had never really bothered to check with anyone wether or not it was true. Still the rider alone payed her no heed, only briefly glancing in her direction.

For the first time in months she found herself smiling. Just briefly, but it was enough. She turned to her father. "I will be going now, father." Imrahil nodded. He had long since relinquished attempting to keep her at his side when she didn't want to be there.

* * *

Lothiriel walked back to her room quietly, but when she got there, she closed the door and screamed. Then she laughed. To anyone passing by, it would sound as if the princess was going crazy. And maybe she was. Or maybe, just maybe, she was looking forward to breakfast in the morning.

Lothiriel walked to breakfast in the morning with her head held high. Then she noticed the memorial to her brother out the window, and her confidence melted like ice in summer. Suddenly she was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. Why had Erchirion needed to prove himself? He was strong and brave. Not enough so for him, apparently.

Then Ivrinial was there, lifting her up and wiping away her tears. "Come on Lothiriel." Her aunt sighed. "Lothiriel, I'm afraid I'm leaving soon." Lothiriel shook her head. "W-why?" The word was a stuttered half-whisper. "I'm old and frail dear. I would like to travel. To see the world. Or at least, a fair part of it."

Lothiriel crumpled, head in hands. "I'm sorry dear." She heard Ivrinial speaking to someone distantly, and then she was being lifted up and led away, back to her rooms. When she finally looked around, the door was closing on the man she had seen who hadn't noticed her.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

For the rest of the day, Lothiriel lay in bed, thinking. First she considered Erchirion, but it was too hard, so she turned her thoughts to the strange man. He was young and strong, but many of them were. She pondered who he could be to no avail, so finally she gave up and slipped into her favorite green dress and went down to the dining hall. She didn't bother trying to smile at the guests, simply sat in a chair next to her brother.

As they served the meal, Lothiriel glanced around the table artfully. A few people who had been boxed out of the conversation were looking around the room bluntly, others debated politics with fervor, and then - there he was. Talking coolly with another council member as if he didn't have have time to bother with anything else. She turned to Elphir just slightly and waited for him to finish talking, then asked quietly, "Who is that man seated at the far corner of the table, seated beside mother?" Elphir nodded at him slightly. "That man? He is Eomer, King of Rohan."

Lothiriel watched him silently for several minutes before excusing herself from the hall. Sighing, she went to her favorite spot in the palace, the gardens. Not many plants grew in the harsh weather by the ocean, but in the sheltered garden orange trees, shrubs, and many flowers grew. She kicked off her tight shoes and sat on the small swing that had been constructed at the edge of the garden under the shade of a short, flat tree.

She leaned back, holding the creaking rope tightly. The leaves danced above her, not vibrant green, more of a bleached olive color. The tree creaked, fractured bark crumbling and falling in a few places in a fine dust. She let her bare feet graze the ground gently.

Then she heard voices talking just behind the shrubbery. Strangely enough, her mind told her to leave, and she slipped from the wooden seat at the peak of its swing and bent to scoop up her shoes, her bare feet skipping over the ground as she settled behind a bush. Her slim fingers pushed some branches out of the way. Imrahil strode around the corner, accompanied by Eomer. She couldn't quite make out their words, but they seemed to be discussing something casual, as Imrahil roared with laughter several times.

They reached the swing and Imrahil leaned against the tree, while Eomer sat on the swing, letting it swing back and forth. "My sister tells me you've met my daughter."

"Yes. Not in any normal state however." Imrahil sighed. "The only person who is more distant than her is my wife. Both are sulking in Erchirion's death." Eomer nodded. "Understandable." Lothiriel resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but a pang of pain at Erchirion's death filled her heart painfully.

Imrahil sighed. "I only wish the best for her, but she keeps me away." Eomer watched him. "Maybe you're trying to hard." And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving both father and daughter in a stunned silence.

* * *

Lothiriel sat on the ground behind the bush considering the conversation she had overheard. Maybe he WAS trying to hard. She just wanted to be left alone, but she knew he cared for her as a daughter. She curled up into a small ball on the ground. A few minutes later, Imrahil left. She heard his footsteps recede into the sound of the wind.

A hand grabbed her shoulder. She turned, eyes blazing, and punched the offender's face. Or rather, tried to. A large hand caught her fit before it reached him. She looked up into Eomer's face and blushed furiously. "Oh," she gasped. He dropped her hand but watched her as he said, "I thought I saw someone back here." As he spoke, Lothiriel was focusing on getting over her embarrassment. She stood brazenly, ignoring the thorns that poked her feet.

"Yes, well. I was there. I overheard by accident." He nodded. "I'm sure." It was wholly unconvincing. She began walking back to the castle, and he walked along beside her. For several moments it was silent, and then she spoke. "Did you know him? Erchirion?" It sounded desperate she knew, but she had to ask. He said nothing for several moments. "I knew him. He was a friend. He died-" She interrupted. "Don't tell me he fought bravely. I don't want to hear it." He smiled at that. "Why not?"

Around them, flower petals cascaded from the apple trees lining the path. A soft carpet of leaves covered the ground. It was still damp from the rain two days ago. She shook her head sadly. "Because then I'll picture it. Fighting on that big battlefield, surrounded by people but utterly alone." He mused about that for a while. "Perhaps." She sighed. "Perhaps?" He nodded. The castle loomed above them, casting it's shadow on them.

Their conversation continued until they reached the open hallway with the twin staircases. She said goodbye detachedly and went up one staircase. She could feel his gaze on her until she turned a corner, and she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She snorted frustratedly. As far as she was concerned, Erchirion had died an honorable death. Her search was yielding no results. Erchirion wasn't the saint everyone believed he was. Her mother knew that. Now she just needed proof, but no one as willing to tell her the truth. That, or no one knew the truth.


End file.
